


You Always Knew Me

by FallenPissyBird



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Blow Jobs, Face-Fucking, Fluff, If I forgot to tag something just go yell at me on Tumblr and I'll fix it, M/M, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Mild Gore, Oral Sex, Past Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Past Drug Addiction, Past Underage Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-20 09:01:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9483911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallenPissyBird/pseuds/FallenPissyBird
Summary: 'One day in your future, I will take something of yours, and you will not even be aware of its absence. In doing so, you will be abandoned by the one who you were finally sure would willingly linger.'When Roy loses his memory, Jason is there for him every step of the way. After all, when the tables were turned, Roy never gave up on him for a second.But when Roy's memories do come back, there is something missing. Or, a very crucial someone. He has absolutely no memory of his fiancé.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is completely finished in my documents, so no worries about it going into hiatus for half a year (yeah I just threw shade at myself).
> 
> My active Tumblr is jayredwing so feel free to yell at me there once the angst starts. Or you can leave me prompts, give me something to do while I'm stuck at work.
> 
> Thanks to my lovely girlfriend, arse-in-arsenal.tumblr.com for betaing my awful grammar as always.
> 
> As always, comments are appreciated and make my day worthwhile.

There was no target Speedy couldn't hit with his arrows. Just give him a mere second alone with his bow, a breath sucked in as he draws, and a target, and he will hit it.

 

Sometimes, the Teen Titans waved it off as a cool party trick, insisting that they had _Wonder Girl_ and their human members were just that- humans. Fragile, breakable. Couldn't pack a punch, not _really_. Time and time again, Speedy and Robin would exchange these glances when it was happening; knowing little smirks, unspoken words of ‘they'll see, just wait’.

 

They were right. Many battles, wearing right down to the wire, were saved by a perfectly aimed arrow and a cocky smirk. Including one fight with an enemy who had managed to trap the team in a swirl of their happiest memories. Every member but Roy, whose happiest memories had just seemed… off to him. Like he was waiting for the sucker punch to come- there was always a sucker punch waiting. So he had escaped the prison of his own mind, whilst his teammates didn't even put up a fight in their own.

 

One perfectly aimed arrow later, and his team began to blink from their trances as the villain who put them there- some kind of creature of magic, who resembled the ghost of a huge woman- writhed in her final moments. Empty eyes suddenly fixed on the archer who ran through her unbeating heart with a red-fletched arrow. Before Speedy could even suck a breath into his lungs, she was overwhelming him. Long white fingers, reminding him of spider legs in the way they bent, grasped at his shoulders and sent his spine straight and frozen. He couldn't move.

 

 _“You_. _”_ Her voice was born of the grave, but her head did not move to signal where the words came from. _“Your actions have dire consequences for your future, Roy Harper.”_ He didn't even have room for the surprise of her knowing his name, seeing as his mind was too preoccupied with fear. Mist was leaking from her eyes, heavy and white, contrasting sharply with the sheer blackness of her empty sockets. _“One day in your future, I will take something of yours, and you will not even be aware of its absence. In doing so, you will be abandoned by the one who you were finally sure would willingly linger. They will let go. Remember my words, for on the day you do not, I avenge my demise.”_ The mist was pouring thickly, falling over Roy’s skin and sapping the warmth from him as he choked for air. But she was deteriorating as she continued, the edges of her billowing figure breaking away to swirl like frantic birds before they died in wisps of embers. _“The moment these words return to you, you will know it has been done. You are cursed, Roy Harper.”_

 

As soon as his name was spoken, the remainder of the creature melted away into ash with a final, bone-wracking scream that made Roy’s knees shake. His skin was as white as the mist settling onto the floor, but it did not thin away to color as quickly as the gas did. His team was still blinking awake, as if the entirety of the wraith’s speech had froze time around them as to prevent the words from being overheard. They recovered quickly, all asking him what had happened, why he looked so shaken, but he brushed their concern away. It was his burden to bear, it was something he alone would deal with. Not to mention, he didn’t want them all to know that he was now quite literally cursed.

 

As years went on, Roy’s relationships were rocky. Not only due to his personality- always waiting for that sucker punch to ruin his happy ending with whomever he found his heart yearning towards- but also because his mind had a tendency to flicker back to the monster who had promised vengeance. The words promised would echo through his head, only to be silenced when he realized he was not convinced the person he was with would not abandon him.

 

Eventually, the curse was put in the back of his mind. He figured there would never be an instance of the curse even being activated- after all, he knew that no one he'd meet would actually stick around. He was the type of guy who always had his suitcase packed and ready, waiting by the door for when the hammer fell.

 

Then, it came rushing back to the forefront of his mind. Nightmares plagued him of the wraith bathing his mind in mist, making him forget the little girl sleeping in the room next to his. He'd wake up in a cold sweat, feeling almost as cold as he did during the encounter itself, and he'd run to her room to ensure she was still there. That the creature’s sickeningly dark prophecy hadn't taken the most important person to him. Every night, Lian was tucked in safely, just as he had left her.

 

With months passing without incident to his mind, Roy eventually allowed the encounter to slip from memory to myth. Seeing as no member of his team had heard a whisper of the words spoken to him, maybe he was simply remembering a potent nightmare he had after the incident. With that conclusion made, the father had no more nightmares of forgetting his sweet pumpkin.

 

Even when he lost her entirely, those precious memories, while initially poisoning to him, were the things that allowed him to heal. He would never forget his little girl. So of course the wraith was only a wild imagination of a boy who was thrust into a world of vigilantism.

 

That was all it possibly could be.

 

-

 

“No. Absolutely not.” Jason dodged a heavy swing from one of Bane’s many lackeys, before grabbing the outstretched arm to use it to throw the thug off the rooftop.

 

He glanced over his shoulder in time to see Roy grin that stupidly mischievous grin he had- all toothy and fiery- before he let loose an arrow that landed with a satisfying _thunk_ in a henchmen that was running at Jason. Right in the throat too. Bruce was going to throw a tantrum, but Jason didn't much give a shit, he had been too high off life the past few months. “I think it's a good idea, I don't know why you're so against it!”

 

 _"I'm on Arsenal’s side for this one, Little Wing."_  Dick chimed in on the communicators, making Jason roll his eyes under his helmet as he bit back his bitter smile. _"_ _You really do have the legs to rock it. Way more so than chicken legs over there."_

 

“I do _not_ have chicken legs!” Roy's voice was huffy, and Jason couldn't hold back his laugh. He actually took offense to that statement, how stupidly adorable. He grinned back at his partner, wishing he had foregone the helmet today so Roy could see it. “Don't.” The archer took the moment of peace in the attack on Gotham to walk towards Jason with a scowl. “I can almost _see_ that dumb smile on your face, punk. I do _not_ have chicken legs.”

 

“Oh babe, I _know_ you don't.” Jason chuckled deeply, reaching out to curl his fingers in the strap of Roy's quiver, pulling him closer.

 

That got the smile back on the archer’s freckled face, and even got him a helmet kiss. Now he _really_ wished he wasn't wearing the damned thing. “So that means you'll wear a dress to the reception?” The brat then asked when he pulled back, the smile melting back into that mischievous grin again.

 

Jason tried to give him a look before remembering his whole helmet issue, and so instead lightly shoved the older man back away from him. “Don't make me throw you off this building, Assenal.” He retorted, before nodding to the adjacent building where more of the goons were rushing towards them.

 

Roy caught the head nod, and shot off a fairly powerful explosion arrow to stall for some time so they could use the fire escape to get back onto street level. With asphalt back under their feet, Jason looked around to size up the situation. They were nearly done with breaking up Bane’s most recent attempt to take over Gotham, and they hadn't even needed to call the big bad bat down from the Watchtower. Good. _"_ _You're such a party pooper, Lil Wing."_  Dick then sighed into the comm, earning a telltale scoff from Damian.

 

“It's my party, I'll poop if I want to.” Jason retorted with a grin, earning a groan from the youngest Robin.

 

" _You could have at least attempted for a better use of vocabulary, Hood."_ He grumbled out in his very Damian-esque way.

 

“What's wrong, baby bat, don't like the word poop?” Jason retorted, earning a laugh from Roy and Dick. “You're what, eight? You should find poop jokes _hilarious!"_

 

 _"You_ _know very well I am_ twelve, _Hood. Do not patronize me."_

 

“So grumpy, someone forgot to give you a nap today. Don't worry, I'll tell Alf once this is all under cont- _Roy!"_ Jason cut himself off when he caught sight of a glint in a far window, right before a spray of machine gun fire pelted towards his partner.

 

As soon as Jason was alerted to the threat, so was Roy. They worked flawlessly together; down to the way their bodies moved, it was all communication to them. Roy was moving before his name was even fully out of Jason's lips, using the dodge that his partner had taught him months ago, the only thing that would get him fully out of the way in time. And it worked, as he knew it would. “Don't worry Jaybird.” He readied his arrow to shoot towards the open window. “I'm getting married in a coupla months, you really think I'm gunna miss that?”

 

Jason didn't watch the arrow to see it hit its mark- he didn't need to, he knew it would. He never doubted Roy's ability. “You- goddammit, you fuckin’- just… you better not.” Jason finally pushed out through his teeth, in that strained kind of voice he had when he was burying his worry behind anger. But Roy knew him better than to be fooled by any front of rage. He knew that when they got home, Jason was going to spend hours worshipping him, as he always did after any close call.

 

“April 28th, got the date in my memory banks and everything.” Roy said as he reached out to grab the back of Jason’s helmet to bring him in close, resting his forehead where Jason’s was underneath. “It’s gunna be magic, you know that? Everything about it.” What a stupid word to use, ‘magic’. But Jason adored it, he loved how Roy reassured him with such confidence. And it _was_ going to be magic. They were turning the date Jason died into something good, something that gave him a reason to smile. And as cheesy as it was, he didn’t mind Roy calling it magic.

 

“Okay.” Jason nodded, letting his bones settle back into his skin despite the scare of seeing the machine gun fire racing towards Roy. Had it been only a year or so earlier, he probably would have thrown himself between the threat and the moron, but he had a promise to keep. He had been doing a damned good job of keeping it, and no thug of Bane’s would fuck that up. “I’m good. We’re good.” Jason smiled, patting his gloved hand over Roy’s wrist, then his arm, before he stepped away from the archer to turn his attention back to the task at hand.

 

The second Jason looked away again, he saw the shadow growing larger. He barely had time to cuss before Bane himself was dropping out of the sky, landing where Jason had been just a moment ago. A rage tore from the huge man’s maw, before a solid kick to the chest sent the gunman flying back into a nearby building. Shit that hurt- his armor absorbed most of the kick, but the debris hitting at his shoulder definitely broke his collarbone when he tried to roll forward and away. Wrong move, one that sent pain racing over his shoulder and over his chest.

 

“Jaybird!” He heard a faint call, not from the comm-link. That meant his helmet was cracked; when he opened his eyes, he saw that was the truth. Cracked enough to chip out a portion over his right eye, leaving the optical specs pointless at this point. He pushed himself forward despite the burning pain in his shoulder, in time to see Bane grab at Arsenal when he tried to run to his partner. Jason didn't even have time to yell before Bane brutally slammed his fiancé to the asphalt. The gunman felt that red rage blind him to everything as he grabbed his guns to run forward, adrenaline numbing his pain and anger choking his rationality.

 

When Bane threw his fist in a punch, Jason was already in the air, letting his feet land hard on his wrist to pitch the hulking man forward. He slammed the barrels of his guns down on top of the man's head, the sound of the metal clanging over bone not heard over the red humming in his mind. He knew his eye was glowing green from the madness eating at his logic, but in times like these, he didn't even try to fight back the bubbling toxic thinking. Roy was _hurt_ ; Bane was going to pay for that.

 

A yowl escaped the beast, falling on deaf ears as Jason flipped off of his shoulder, sending him back onto the ground. The gunman landed in a crouch, before he was lunging forward at the villain who was trying to get himself back onto his feet. Two bullets fired from his guns, one to tear through his knee and the other to sever one of the venom cords feeding into his neck.

 

Bane tried to fight through it, but he was no match for an angry Red Hood who would breath in cool air, and when it was forced out it was bitter hot with red rage through his teeth. He tasted the madness on his tongue, thick and acidic, and welcomed it in this scenario. It was his weapon.

 

When he was finally able to satiate the waves of green monsters in his mind, it was only when Bane was down for the count- blood painting his skin red and his face a bit mashed out of shape. But he was still breathing, a mercy most wouldn't find in the Red Hood’s madness. This time, he was distracted by a familiar voiced groan, grabbing his full attention and dimming the glow of Lazarus from his gaze to only a thin ring of green around his iris.

 

He dropped his guns and ran back to Roy, falling to knees to reach for his fiancé. His hands stopped in mid-air, remembering that if there were serious breaks in his bones, moving him would only make the damage worse. Shit shit shit, what was he supposed to _do_ ?! He wasn't usually the one in this situation; he was used to being the bleeding bag of bones strewn across the pavement, after making some dumbass move that would send Roy spiraling into worry. But this was _Roy_ , he was the one guy in Jason’s life who was untouchable! He was smarter than all the bad guys, and he always knew just how to move to get out of their way. He knew what they'd do before even they did, and he had the perfect counter attack nocked and ready in his bow before villains even knew where to look.

 

Okay, okay he needed to breathe. His madness was still humming in his brain, making it hard to hear, but he just had to think through it. Assess the situation, that's what Roy usually does. And Bruce. And basically all the idiots who actually know what they're doing. There was no blood pooling under Roy's body, so hopefully if there were gashes, none were opened deep enough to be a threat. He could hear the man's breathing, a bit fast and choppy, but not enough to signal a collapsed lung. His shoulder was already swelling though, and his arm twisted at an angle that made Jason feel sick with worry. Not to mention he couldn't even see his _spine_ . And the _force_ with which his head hit pavement… Jason couldn't stop replaying it in his mind.

 

Jason tentatively reached out, before stopping himself again to rip his glove off and then wrench his cracked helmet from his head and toss it to the side. He then reached forward again and cupped his freed hand on Roy's face, which earned a slight and barely noticeable catch of breath. He was responding, thank god. “Hey, Roy… you okay babe?” He hated how shaky his voice sounded, how unsure his tone was. God if Roy was hurt all because _he_ fucked up and got thrown into a building, he was going to-

 

His thoughts cut short when green eyes fluttered open, squinting at first as they searched for something to focus on. When they found Jason, the gunman let out a relieved breath through his smile, but the clouded haze made his chest tighten again. There was something off about his gaze, which was usually sharp and constantly calculating. And when he finally spoke, Jason's breath left his lungs vacant, pulling the smile from his expression as if it had no right to be there at all.

  
“Who's Roy?”


	2. Chapter Two

Post-traumatic retrograde global amnesia. Uncommon, and rarely permanent, usually lasting about a month before the effects wear away as the brain repairs itself. But in some cases, the repair doesn't happen.

 

Jason was a mess through the diagnosis, nearly attacking the doctor every time he gave bad news or underestimated Roy's ability to heal due to the track marks he saw on his arms. Even in a sling for his broken collarbone, he was quite a monster in the eyes of an untrained doctor. Luckily, Dick was there to hold him back, also convincing the doctor that Roy was no longer addicted to the substances. And of course that no, his brother did  _ not _ need to be restrained or escorted outside by security. He could behave. It was a little harder convincing him of the latter, however, seeing as Jason was always either glaring or snarling at the man. Dick's words of reassurance that the unconscious man really was his brother's better half was the only saving grace given to the stubborn asshole.

 

Roy stayed the night at the hospital, and Jason never left his side. Jason told the staff the painkillers wouldn't do shit to knock him out or help his pain, and had the pleasure of saying ‘toldya so’ when it was proven. Roy's body had been abused by the heavy doses of heroin, so his tolerance was too high. When they went to get the heavier stuff for addicts, Jason told them not to- he knew his fiancé, and knew he'd hate having any kind of opioid in his veins. Or any kind of drug at all, really.

 

When Roy was woken by the staff fixing his shattered shoulder, Jason was by his side to let him squeeze his hand- damn near cracking every bone in it in the process. But Jason didn't care. Roy was always there for him, even when he had given up his own memory. Roy was  _ always _ there. Jason would be damned if he wasn't there for his fiancé when he needed him most.

 

Once that painful experience was over, the redhead lay awake in the bed, panting from the pain. He asked for something, anything for the pain, and Jason had the hard job of telling him the truth. Once Roy was directed to the scars along his arm, his eyes widened and breath caught- before a flood of questions poured from his lips. Damn, one of the hardest stories to start off with, but it was Roy's past and it made him who he was. So Jason would tell it to him, giving him all the details he could, in hopes of filling in the gaps, and also so he could tell him how  _ strong _ Roy was in beating his addiction.

 

That of course led to more questions, and Jason found himself explaining Roy's life to the man himself for  _ hours _ . Eventually, Jason could see the way his fiancé struggled to keep his eyes open, and he gently suggested for him to sleep. Oddly enough, he actually listened- without the demons of his past, Roy's mind must be working slower and allowing the sweet escape of slumber. For a moment, just a moment, Jason found himself wondering if maybe, just maybe, he could be happier without his memories. No… no, he wouldn't think that. Roy would kill him for even suggesting it. And he would do his best to do what his Roy would want.

 

-

 

He stayed in the hospital for another day or two, always accompanied by Jason and sometimes some others- Dick, Dinah, Kory, Ollie (only when Dick could successfully drag Jason out of the room, though). Jason was able to shed his sling after 24 hours, but Roy’s shoulder would take almost two months to fully heal, restricting him to his own sling in the meantime. When they finally cleared him to go home, Jason found a whole new struggle in introducing him back to the apartment. He had gotten a story of his life from three different people, so he hopefully had a handle on that, but Jason had kind of skimped out on mentioning the whole… engaged thing. Sure, they both had rings, and Roy had noticed back in the hospital, (Jason caught him looking at it rather pointedly,) but he had yet to ask. So Jason had yet to answer.

 

When they got there, Dick accompanied them for only a minute or two to ensure Roy wasn't overwhelmed or had any complications before he left. Jason would have to remember to thank him later for not dragging the process out, as he usually would. But that left just Jason and an abnormally quiet Roy. The gunman wasn't used to this- usually Roy was running his mouth about anything and everything. It used to annoy the piss out of him, but within months of knowing him, he grew to understand it. It was his way of keeping his thoughts out of his past tragedies, as well as keep his genius mind at a steady pace.

 

He didn't realize he had grown to depend on Roy's rambling nearly as much as Roy himself, though. God why couldn't he think of what to say? The silence was filling the room, the whole apartment, deafening him, suffocating him, had to say something,  _ anything _ _-_ “So we're engaged.” Preferably not  _ that. _

 

However, it did work to draw the redhead's attention, who looked back at him with curious green eyes. He then held up his uninjured left hand, spinning at the small golden ring there with his thumb. “Shared apartment, matching rings, not leaving my side in the hospital… I figured. But I didn't ask yet. Just in case, I dunno, maybe they were best friend forever rings or some shit.”

 

That got a laugh out of Jason. It was nervous and still a bit strained, but it was the first time he had actually laughed since that shitty battle that nearly took his beloved from him. “God that joke was awful.” Roy chuckled, his face getting red from his embarrassment as he put his hand over his face as if to hide behind it. “Don't tell me that's why you agreed to marry me. I don't  _ usually _ make shitty jokes like that, do I?”

 

Jason's laughter died away to a chuckle, and he felt a bit of the tension leave the hallway as he stepped to be closer to the redhead. “Sorry pal. Shitty jokes are your specialty. And uh, it was actually  _ you _ who agreed to marry  _ me _ .”

 

Roy looked a bit shocked at that, hand falling from his face as the last of the color ebbed away. “Couldn't have taken too much convincing, had it? I mean you're-” He cleared his throat, as if stopping himself from embarrassing words. “You are a very uhm,  _ attractive _ man.”

 

Shit. Jason felt his mouth go dry as he had to blink a little bit. He had  _ amnesia _ and he was still adorable as all hell. How did he do that? And shit, now he was at a loss for words- he knew exactly what he might say if this was Roy with his memory, but this was Roy  _ without _ his memory and god he felt like he could overwhelm him if he did the wrong thing and he just wanted-

 

“So how'd that happen anyway?” Roy's words snapped him out of his own head before he fell too far, giving him a handhold in a way that only Roy knew how. And when he focused back on his face again, he could've sworn he saw that knowing smile- like he  _ knew _ exactly what he did- but then it was gone again. Jason imagined it, he  _ must  _ have.

 

But he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he just smiled and stepped forward, carefully putting his hand on the small of Roy's back to lead him to the living room. As the redhead was sitting on the couch, Jason couldn't help but look around and notice the glass of water that was on the table, the same glass that his fiancé had just got himself before they got the call from Dick, asking for some assistance. “I thought you said you put it on a  _ coaster _ , that is not-” He started to scold when he saw the ring marked into the table from the forgotten glass, before he snapped back to present.

 

He looked down at Roy, who was just giving him this innocent, puppy dog smile. Right. No memories. So scolding seemed a bit... pointless. He cleared his throat as he sat down half a cushion down from the redhead. “Sorry. Just… habit.”

 

“So I'm a slob?” He then asked, hands on his knees as if he was at a stranger's house and he was trying to be polite. It was such a weird picture, but it must be even weird for Roy, so Jason kept his mouth shut.

 

“No, no.” Jason said instantaneously, before thinking a bit as he shrugged meekly. “I mean… okay for  _ some _ things. Like coasters. You keep insisting we just get glass tabletops. And then I point out how much cleaning they would need, like  _ everyday  _ dusting, and you shut down pretty quick. Oh, and your clothes. You tend to just… leave them. Anywhere. But only if it doesn't make any sense to me. Like, your shirt in the bathroom.  _ Only _ your shirt. Oh and the time you left a single sock in the kitchen,  _ on  _ the counter. You still haven't explained to me how that happened.”  _ And may never will. _ He stopped and let his tongue drag over his lips as he looked down on a reflex. It was hard to be positive in the face of something that felt so hopeless. What if he never got his memory back?

 

“So, the story.” Roy said after he cleared his throat, as if he was trying to shove the sudden mood shift under the sofa. “I wanna know how you proposed to me. It's not boring, like took me to dinner and put the ring in my drink, right? I mean, we're  _ superheroes for hire! _  It has to be as cool as that.”

 

Jason chuckled a bit as he looked down at his knees, remembering the whole situation. “That's actually what I was going to do. Maybe spare your drink, but ya know- classy restaurant, good food, get down on one knee. Something normal despite the chaotic world around us.” He admitted as he leaned back and let his eyes finally rest on Roy’s face, occasionally glancing away so he could remember that this wasn’t entirely Roy- not yet. Not until he got all of his memories back. “But things played out a lot differently than I planned. They tend to do that, when you’re involved. I’m big on planning things out, and you’re big on being unpredictable. You always leave me guessing, and I used to find it  _ insufferable _ , but now… shit I can’t imagine life without it. I don’t want to.” His brow furrowed and he looked away, before clearing his throat to continue so the silence wouldn’t drag on.

 

“Anyways, we were out on a job, maybe like half a year ago. Turned out our target was out of this world. That is to say, he was an alien.” He got a look for the pun, a scrunched up freckled face that almost made him forget Roy had amnesia for a second. “What? It was funny! No? Alright, alright…” He laughed, before easing back against the sofa, letting the tension slowly ebb out of the room. “Anyways, the ensuing battle was definitely more than we were expecting, and more than we had prepared for. Turned out his alien backup was numerous and already suspicious that he was in trouble, so they were ready to unleash hell. I ran out of bullets, you ran out of arrows, and we were in some shitty park in the dead of night. You suggested we call Koriand’r, or maybe Wally. But I’ve always been a pretty big enforcer of the ‘I can handle it myself’ rule, and told you to run for the sprinkler system as soon as I distracted them. They had a burning aversion to water, which also made it hard for them to stay on our planet for too long. You did  _ not _ like my plan, but I didn’t really stick around to argue about it- I do that a lot. Something I gotta work on.

 

“We won the fight, but not before I found out my armor doesn’t do much against alien weaponry. I did not take that into consideration before rushing in to get their attention, and got myself a new couple of holes before you got the system activated and they had to retreat. You found me bleeding in the grass, and you half-carried, half-dragged my ass home. We have a pretty extensive medbay in the bathroom thanks to my nasty habit of throwing myself into danger. I was in and out of consciousness, and you told me it was touch-and-go for a little bit. I don’t remember that as well.

 

“But I do remember waking up a couple of days after, and you greeted me back to life with a punch I can still feel. You pack a  _ nasty _ punch. All that damn archery. I knew you were going to be angry, I can still remember thinking about it as I told you my plan. But I was stubborn, and I was convinced that if anyone was going to get hurt ‘cause of this job, because of  _ any _ job really, it was going to be me. It had to be me. Because I could take it, I can always take it, any amount of pain for you. And if I died, then well, it was for a damned good reason, because  _ you lived. _ And you  _ hated _ how I thought that. That was what we argued about the most. How I was always ready to die for you, and how you were always preparing for me to leave you. But that day, you were done. You said my heart stopped, you had to beat it back to life, and you- you couldn’t do it again.  _ You _ wanted to be the one to leave this time. And that made me  _ finally _ realize why you were waiting for me to leave you. Because Brave Bow, Lian, they  _ left  _ you. They didn’t want to, and you  _ knew _ that, but they still  _ did _ and it hurt you like hell. You were stuck always preparing for my stupidly heroic death; each and every time we went into the field together, you were waiting until the day you had to kneel over my corpse because I wanted to be the guy brave enough, the guy who loved you enough to  _ die _ for you.

 

“So I stood up and grabbed your wrist, and I can still remember how you whirled around with your fist ready, like you were gunna punch me again. But then I was on one knee, and you looked down at me like you didn’t know if _ I _ knew what the fuck I was doing, but I did. And I told you all the shit that I finally pieced together, word for word, and I could see your angry mask finally fall away until you just looked  _ scared. _ And god that hurt me more than any punch you could ever throw. So I told you that I could prove you wrong. That I  _ wanted _ to prove you wrong. I told you that I was going to be the guy who loved you enough to  _ live _ for you, despite everything that has happened to me in my past, despite everything I knew about love. That every single fight I went into, I was going to have a new mindset, and it would revolve around keeping  _ both  _ of us alive. So that we could make it to our wedding, and then marital bliss, and arguing over who had to do the laundry that week.” He had to stop to suck in a breath, which was kind of shaky. He was doing better than he did during the proposal though- he started crying the second he saw that look of fear in Roy’s eyes. Getting through the whole improvised speech without sobbing had been a bit of a miracle.

 

He glanced back up at Roy, who he had stopped looking at so he didn’t start thinking his Roy was fine, and saw that he was listening in awe. There were no tears though, despite how those eyes had been blinking back tears the second he told Jason he was done and he was leaving. Of course there weren’t. These memories, they weren’t there, they weren’t embedded. Roy didn’t feel that suffocating kind of love that made that moment so damned hard, he didn’t spend months and  _ years _ getting to know Jason past the hood and mask, he didn’t  _ love _ Jason. He didn’t love him.

 

Jason looked down and away again as a tear spilled over, and he wiped it away as quickly as he could, hoping it would just seem he was overcome with the emotion of the story he was telling. God he wished that was the case. He wished he hadn’t pieced that together in his mind, he wished he could reverse his thoughts and unthink it, but now it was all he could hear, all he could think, repeated like a mantra  _'h_ _ e doesn’t love you, he doesn’t love you, he doesn’t love you.' _   “I remember I was telling you- rambling actually, I tend to do that when I start panicking- that I had the rings in my room. That this was actually planned out, and I was 100% serious, that I wanted to be your husband more than I’ve ever wanted to be anything in the world. You cut me off though, kissing me and all that gay shit.” He chuckled, keeping his eyes down as he tried to hold back his tears with sheer willpower. “Still hard to think about. In that moment, I was just… so fucking scared I was going to lose you. Thought I had fucked up, and only realized it when it was just  _ seconds _ too late.”

 

“You didn’t.” Jason jumped a bit when a hand suddenly covered his, the warm and rough hand of Roy’s so familiar and yet unexpected. He lifted his head to see the redhead’s brow was furrowed, like he could see through the welling of emotion in the gunman’s gaze, the source of it. And for a second, just the sharp emerald of his eyes silenced the repeating mantra that was trying to build the panic inside of his breast. “I know I’m not…” Roy started, fingers squeezing at Jason’s hand for a moment as he tried to find the words. “Memories make the man. So I know that I’m not quite back at the man you love. But I feel… safe with you. If that even makes sense. And I know everyone is preparing for the worst, but I want to try to be positive. I can’t wait until I can remember that story for myself. I bet you’re really cute when you ramble.”

 

Jason should have stopped himself. He should have focused on the ‘memories make the man’ bit, but god he sounded just like Roy… down to calling him ‘cute’ when he rambles. So he surged forward, his free hand cupping at the redhead’s cheek to kiss him. There was a moment- half a second maybe- of shock between the both of them, before they were kissing each other. Roy was slow and timid, like he really didn’t remember anything of how to kiss, but had the basic muscle memories from his years of being with Jason. It was strange, but he tasted like Roy and the soft sounds he made in his throat were Roy’s and he grabbed at him like Roy and- Jason could just lose himself in his imagination.

 

When Jason finally pulled back, they were both panting as they stared at each other. Jason wanted to crack a joke about how they must look like lovestruck teenagers learning how to make-out, but words weren’t really making it to his throat. It took Roy to break the silence. “We’ve had sex before, right?”

 

Okay, that was  _ not _ what Jason was expecting him to break the silence with. “W-well, I mean… yes?” Jason spoke tentatively, trying to push himself back onto where he was sitting on the sofa, but the fingers curled in his shirt stopped him.

 

“Maybe we should try that.” Roy said, his face growing red as Jason turned his gaze from the hand in his shirt back up again. “Like, to jog my memory and-”

 

“No.” Jason said flat out, putting his hand over the archer’s on his chest, but not to remove it. “I mean, you’re  _ hurt _ , and I’m not going to  _ pressure _ you into-”

 

“You’re not pressuring me into anything!” Roy cut him off, as rudely as Roy always has and hopefully, always would. “I’m the one who brought it up, and I’m the one who suggested it. And it’s just my shoulder. And my arm. I don’t need both arms to… ya know.”

 

“Yeah, but I kissed you, and-”

 

“And  _ nothing." _  Roy insisted, eyes locked onto Jason’s as if he could erase the doubt with his own silent reassuring gaze. “Okay, look. We don’t have to do  _ much _ if you don’t want to. But the doctor told you that putting me back into my regular environment may help in triggering the connection from my memories to the retrieval blah blah science stuff. You heard it.”

 

Jason let out a slow breath, his hand moving back to Roy’s face as he brushed his thumb across the galaxy of freckles on his cheek. “Okay.” He agreed, eyes flickering from the man’s eyes to his lips as he leaned in again. “I love you.” He kissed him then, so that the older man didn’t feel any pressure to respond to the words.

 

The gunman didn’t really remember how they got to the bedroom exactly, aside from the brief periods where he had to guide his fiancé, who didn’t know where the right room  _ was. _ Which would have been funny, in the right circumstances, but this was not one of them. Okay it was a  _ little _ funny. Once they were in their room, Jason made careful work of stripping Roy out of his shirt to not jostle his injured arm as he moved his lips to the man’s stubbly jaw, which made the redhead clench his fingers in the fabric of his own shirt. “Y-ya know, I was wondering about all those marks on my person when I took a shower in the hospital.” He managed out, his voice breathy and warm in the way that made Jason proud. It meant he was turning his sweet archer on, and that always made him happy.

 

“Mmm, were you.” Jason asked without really asking, hands moving down to grip at Roy’s hips as he guided him to the bed.

 

“Yeah.” Roy muttered out, the back of his knees hitting the bed. He paid no mind though, until Jason’s strong hand was at his chest and pushing him to sit down. The distance between them did not suffer however, as Jason bent over to chase the warm, freckled skin of his shoulder with his lips. “Made me wonder- you got marks like that too?”

 

Jason chuckled, his breath hot as he straightened up to run his tongue over his bottom lip, before he caught it between his teeth. He then stripped himself out of his shirt, not as a show, but just to get it out of the way. It did catch Roy’s attention though, and he made the cutest expression of awe that Jason was almost used to at this point. Almost. Though that did prove that when they fooled around, Roy  _ actually _ looked at him like it was the first time he laid eyes on him. God if that didn’t send his blood boiling with sheer adoration. “Yeah, I do. Mine are a bit lower though.” He said, tapping his finger against the highest mark, which was fading but still visible on his hip.

 

“O-oh.” Roy’s face turned bright red, and he looked torn between waiting to see where this was going, and lunging forward to match his teeth with the mark and make it blatantly visible again. _"_ _ Shit _ please tell me they’re all over your thighs, because I  _ swear." _  He breathed out, curling and uncurling his fingers in a visible display of self control.

 

Jason laughed, clear and hot, before he was popping the button on his jeans to push them, along with his boxer briefs, onto the floor. It gave Roy full view of all the marks he had left on his thighs in the week past, as well as his cock, which was already half-hard. “Good.” Roy breathed out a bit dreamily, before he was watching Jason drop to his knees in front of him.

 

He opened his mouth again, as if to say something more, but he stopped himself when the younger man ran his rough hands up his thighs towards his crotch. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Jason asked, taking a final moment to reassure despite the clear outline of Roy’s dick in his jeans that was kind of speaking for him in that moment.

 

“And I was told  _ I _ was the talker…” Roy grumbled out, fingers from his uninjured hand reaching forward to run through Jason’s hair- not a rough grab, nor a confident touch even. It was like he was trying to figure out what to do, what part he played in all of this. It was Jason’s goal to make it clear that he didn’t  _ have  _ a part to play in this. That he adored him, and wanted to make him feel good without asking anything in return. His part to play in this was just in existing. After everything he had done for Jason, he earned some unconditional adoration, even if it was to last an eternity. “I’m sure.”

 

That was all Jason needed at that point. He unfastened Roy’s jeans and made quick work of pulling them down his legs and off completely, as well as his boxers. The redhead’s face was red, but it wasn’t entirely from horniness, Jason could tell. He was probably bashful- this was the first time he could remember he was naked in front of someone, after all. The gunman made short work of distracting him however, shuffling forward to be between his legs as he leaned over to kiss at Roy’s hip.

 

He spent little time on foreplay; only enough to get Roy fully hard and completely focused on him. Once he had the man panting with a few slow strokes from his hand and his mouth sucking and biting marks into his thighs, making him whine and writhe a bit, did he let his lips graze over the base of his cock. With his hot breath caressing the sensitive skin, the older man’s hand shot down to tangle in dark hair again- this time, however, the grip was much more certain. Jason chuckled, earning dark eyes to be locked on him before he opened his mouth to run his tongue up his shaft. “Sh _ -shit!" _   Roy cursed, fingers tightening in Jason’s hair in a way that ran down to his own dick.

 

Once he was sure he was done teasing his fiancé, he circled his tongue around the tip of his dick, collecting the bead of precum that had formed there before he was opening his mouth completely to take him in. The noise that escaped the archer was so familiar and so  _ beautiful _ , it had Jason’s eyes rolling back a bit as he fisted at his own hard cock. Once he had half of him in his mouth, the gunman sucked to hollow out his cheeks, and pressed the flat of his tongue to the shaft in his mouth, before he began to bob his head, taking a bit more each downward motion. Each whimper and whispered “Jason…” went straight to the gothamite’s own arousal, along with each tug of his hair and each small buck of hips.

 

At one point, he pulled Roy out of his mouth with an obscene popping sound. He looked up at his lover, and he knew his pupils were as blown as the other man’s as he grinned lazy and loving. “You can fuck my face if you want, ya know.” He told him, with earned him an instant moan from the redhead, who tightened his fingers as if the idea was water to a man in the desert.

 

_ "Shit _ you are a sin incarnate.” Roy breathed out, head lolling forward when Jason wrapped his lips back around his dick and looked up at him expectantly. The tight fingers in his hair were no longer lacking in confidence, but instead fueled by a lust for selfish pleasure. He used that tight grip along with his bucking hips, fucking past the gunman’s mouth and into his throat, taking full advantage of the man’s control over his gag reflex. When tears began to bead in Jason’s eyes, Roy bit down on his lip to hold back his words. But Jason knew exactly what he wanted to say- he had said it all in the past. He only wished he was willing to share; next time, he’d get him confident enough to do so.

 

“O-oh god  _ Jason _ , I’m not… I’m not gunna l-last…” The archer stuttered out, releasing his bottom lip from between his teeth. The warning was not needed though, as Jason could feel the slight hitch in his bucking hips that always signaled when Roy was nearing his end. When the redhead tried to pull out of his mouth, Jason instead tightened his fingers in the man’s hips to pull him even deeper, humming his reassurance around Roy’s cock in his throat. That was his undoing. With a breathless cry of pleasure, the redhead gave a final hard thrust and emptied himself in Jason’s throat, his body tensing and shuddering for a second before he fell back onto the bed, limp and spent.

 

Jason pulled off the softened dick, cum and spit falling from his tongue and reddened lips before he swallowed the rest of it down. He watched with heavy eyes the way Roy’s muscled chest rose and fell with each heaving pant, and a hum of appreciation followed the quickened strokes he gave to his own cock. Roy lifted his head in time to see Jason climax into his fist, eyes hazy yet intent with amazed admiration.

 

The warmth of orgasm lingered in Jason’s bones, making his limbs heavy as he pushed himself off of his knees and into the bed beside his redhead lover. _"S_ _ hit..." _  Roy managed out, breaking past the sounds of panting breath. “You’re  _ really  _ good with your mouth.”

 

Jason chuckled, his mind cloudy with contentment as he curled up beside his fiancé and forgot their entire situation for a long moment. “Mmm… how do you think I got so many clients back on Crime Alley?” He joked teasingly; Roy hated those jokes, but Jason was comfortable enough to make them around him. The archer was the one who helped him through those memories after all, who made him face them and come to terms with them. So when he joked about it, it didn’t hurt like it used to. Roy still loved him, despite his past.

 

“What.” Okay, that was not what Jason expected, and was successful in breaking the gunman out of his fantasy world and back into reality.

 

“Oh.” Shit. He had failed to mention his own history to the older man; he had spent the days past filling him in on his own life. Well, this was going to be a fun conversation. “Uh. So, when I was a kid, I was… homeless for a little bit. I made due by boosting stuff, and uhm. Whoring a bit. Here and there.”

 

There was a long silence that stretched between them- or at least, it felt long to Jason. He could feel his chest tightening in a way it hadn’t in a long time, filling him with a sense of disgust; like he was used up and  _ dirty _ . Shit, this could change everything. He didn’t know what Roy without his memories would say to him being a child prostitute! God why did he open his big fucking mouth, the joke wasn’t even funny! Roy  _ hated _ those jokes! “So a junkie and a prostitute.” Roy’s voice made Jason startle, and he looked over at the man who was already looking at him- studying him with those green eyes that the gunman was so enamored with. “No wonder we work so well together, huh? We’ve both seen some shit- or at least, I assume I have. But… we’re still there for each other despite it.”

 

Jason could feel himself choking on his heart, and he sat up to grab Roy’s face and kiss him, long and deep and  _ adoring _ . When he pulled back, he found himself falling into those eyes that held the secrets of the universe, and god what he wouldn’t give to live in them. “So I know you’re probably sick of talking so much, but I’d like to know your backstory too.” Roy then spoke up, breaking the silence as he reached up and tentatively touched at Jason’s cheek. The caress grew more affectionate when Jason nuzzled against it, and shed its unsurety to be replaced by warmth. “I kinda wanna know everything about you, Jason Todd.”

 

Jason smiled, loving and hopeful, before he spent the night holding his fiancé and recounting the tales of his youth; both tragic and wondrous.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter is heavy with angst. Really, really heavy.

The next month passed with little change. Jason spent as much time as he could in the apartment, filling Roy in with tales of their adventures together, all of which made the redhead smile or laugh. As time went on, Jason grew increasingly confident; if worse came to worse, and Roy never regained his memories, it didn’t matter. He still loved the man. He always would. He could make this work.

 

Everything changed the day that Jason had to take a job to earn the money to pay the rent of their apartment. He was gone for hours, and when he finally finished eliminating the target, his phone began to ring. When he saw Dick’s name flashing across the screen, he was not surprised; he had been checking in a few times a week to hear about Roy’s progress. “He still doesn’t have his memory, Dickiebird.” Jason spoke into the phone as his greeting.

 

_ “Yeah, about that _ .” Dick replied, making Jason tense in his steps of returning to his bike.  _ “I uh, I think we need to talk, Little Wing.” _

 

Oh no. Oh no, that did not sound good. That was his bad news tone. “What happened? Where is he?!” Jason demanded as he began to walk again, but this time it was more of a jog. He had to get back to Roy, something was wrong.

 

_ “He just showed up at my apartment, but there’s something you need to know, Jay, he-” _ Dick started, but a voice in the background cut him off.

 

_ “Who’re you on the phone with, Dickface?” _ That was Roy’s voice. But it was more than just Roy’s voice, it was  _ Roy’s _ voice. It was casual, and rough, and he called Dick by a childhood nickname. He had his  _ memories. _

 

“I’m on my way.” Jason said and hung up, despite how Dick tried to keep him on the line.

 

He had never driven as fast in his life, at least not that he could remember. He reached Gotham in record time, not even stopping at the apartment seeing as Roy wasn’t even there. Why would he leave? Why would he go to Dick’s? He knew Jason’s number, he could have called and told him, he could have just stayed until Jason got back even! He’d answer those questions later, but in the moment he just wanted to see his fiancé.

 

He ran up to Dick’s apartment, not even checking his security system as he barged inside. Dick seemed to be waiting for him, pacing in the entryway before his head whipped up to hone in on Jason. “Where is he.” Jason didn’t so much as ask as he demanded.

 

“Jason, stop.” Dick blocked his path, hands on the younger man’s broader shoulders in an attempt to stop him from entering further. “We need to talk first, would you just  _ listen  _ to me for once in your-”

 

“Hey Dick, you’re out of peanut butter.” The familiar voice came before the figure walked into the hallway holding a carrot stick. Green eyes locked onto teal, and for a long moment, silence filled the room like a thick fog and began to choke Jason. “Oh shit. You’re here.” Roy said in a bland voice, eyes blank in the way that he used to do back when he was putting his walls into place. But… why would they be going up  _ now? _

 

Jason finally shoved past Dick and closed the distance between him and Roy, before he was wrapping his arms around the older man. He was even careful of his shattered shoulder, which was still in a sling, but pulled back when Roy’s entire body was as stiff as unfeeling stone. “Roy, your memories, they’re-”

 

“Back, yeah.” Roy said in a matter-of-fact tone, watching Jason with a wary gaze that the gunman was not used to. “Came all of a sudden, too. I took a nap and when I woke up, it was like they never left in the first place. Except, well, you.”

 

Jason’s brow furrowed, and he looked back at Dick for an explanation, but for once he was silent. So he looked back at Roy, whose gaze was still steel and cautious, making Jason’s gut twist in apprehension. “What do you mean, me? Are you saying you don’t  _ remember _ me?”

 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Roy spoke slowly, eyes narrowing as if he was waiting for Jason to morph into some kind of villain and reveal his evil plot. “Everything else is there. My homeland, Ollie, the streets, the Titans, the Justice League… Lian. Everything but you.”

 

“He doesn’t even remember when you were Robin.” Dick finally spoke up, but Jason’s wide eyes wouldn’t leave Roy. “All he can remember is Bruce firing me, and then Bruce going years without a Robin until Tim came along. It doesn’t make sense, I called the doctor and he said nothing like this has ever happened before, and-”

 

“I’m your  _ fiancé!” _ Jason cut Dick off, eyes still locked on Roy. “What the fuck do you mean you don’t remember me?! We’ve been together for  _ years! _ I’ve known you since before I  _ died,  _ you can’t just- this doesn’t make any sense, we’re-”

 

“Weird, isn’t it.” Roy’s voice was monotonous, making Jason feel sick to his stomach. It was like the older man suspected some kind of evil intent in him, like he was making it all up! Like he was a complete stranger who took advantage of his amnesia to get hitched! “All I can remember is these past few weeks with you, and all your far-fetched stories.”

 

_ “‘Far-fetched’?!” _ Jason spat out, feeling rage climb up his throat as his eyes narrowed in a glare and his lips parted in a snarl. “How  _ dare _ you?! Do you think I'm just making it all up?! That everyone,” He threw his hand back towards Dick, “is pretending that I'm a real fuckin’ person?!”

 

Roy ran his tongue over his teeth, eyes assessing the man in front of him. He was assessing Jason; it was like he was sizing him up, seeing if he could take him in a fight, thinking of what  _ moves _ he'd make. Jason couldn't believe it. Even when they  _ did _ fight, it was out of passion and fire and- there were no damn  _ calculations! _ “Could be magic.”

 

“Magic.” Jason spat out bitterly, teeth clenched down tightly enough he was sure he'd start to feel the bones crack. That  _ stupid _ fucking word.  _ Magic. _ “Do I look fuckin’  _ magic _ to you?!”

 

“I don't  _ know _ what it is, all I know is that I suddenly regain all my memories but _ you. _ ” Roy spoke in his sharply accusing tone, one that had yet to be used against Jason. The gunman didn't like it. It made his stomach clench and curl, made him feel like he was going to be sick. This… was Roy. But it wasn't  _ his _ Roy. “My alleged  _ fiancé. _ I think if I was  _ engaged, _ you'd be the first person I'd remember! But I don't! So I should just take everyone's word on this? That you're this guy who's absolutely  _ perfect  _ for me, and leave it at that? No way! I remember my past, I remember  _ everything _ and there is no one out there who is perfect for me. There is no way you can possibly  _ exist!” _

 

“I'M RIGHT HERE!” Jason roared, storming closer as he felt that humming in his brain, the red eating at his mind as he felt his terror of losing Roy begin to unleash the Lazarus. He could feel the green acid of the pit begin to eat at his iris from the outside inward, despite how he tried to keep it at bay. But he was just so- he was so  _ frustrated. _ It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, he was recovered, he was himself again! But… he wasn’t.

 

Roy dropped the carrot stick and began to back away, a flash of apprehension in his green eyes. In all their time together, their  _ years, _ Roy had never been afraid of Jason. Not once. The gothamite remembered asking him how that was once, and he had shrugged his shoulders and just smiled all lazy and trusting,  _ “I know you, Jaybird. Even when I didn’t really know you yet, I knew you. You don’t want to hurt people. And when the pit takes over, and it wants to hurt people, I know you’re stronger than it. You’re stronger than you know.” _

 

“You’re afraid of me.” Jason spoke in an incredulous voice, his eyes widening as he felt the burn of sorrow rising up his throat, choking him, making him want to curl up and  _ scream _ until all he could taste was blood.

 

Roy didn’t respond, not right away. He just narrowed his wary eyes, keeping his posture in that backing away position, like he was ready to turn and run. “I don’t know what you’re capable of. You said you have a madness from the Lazarus Pit, so yes. I’m  _ wary  _ of you.”

 

Dick tried to speak up at this point, tried to step in to make the situation better. “Jason would  _ never _ hurt you, Roy! He’d never hurt-”

 

“No, Dick.” Jason cut him off, teeth pressed back together as he hid his panicking agony in the green mist in his mind. “He’s right.” He let his sharp green gaze, so much more acidic than Roy’s, linger on the redhead’s face. “He doesn’t know me. Memories make the man, like you said. So you aren’t my Roy.” He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t stay. The Lazarus was too strong, and the pain was eating at his bones and making him want to just lose himself in the fire and hurt someone.

 

Maybe that was why Dick let him go, maybe he could see the unearthly green in his younger brother’s eyes and let him leave with little arguement. But Jason didn’t care to think it through. He was losing himself in his own head, far too quickly than was safe. He had to get out of there, he had to just escape.

 

-

 

Jason didn’t know how many hours had passed. He just lay on the rooftop, looking up at the smoggy sky as broken bodies littered the concrete structure around him. He was in some city west of Gotham, and had single handedly demolished the drug trade that had been shipping supplies to his home city. He could feel his masked face was wet with blood, none of it his own- at least, he was pretty sure. His clothes were splattered as well, the fresh liquid offering a faint glint from the moonlight streaming meekly on the dismal rooftop.

 

He had finally exhausted his demons. He kept going, kept hurting and killing all the bastards who deserved it- these fuckers sold to kids, and watered their goods down with poison, he did his research weeks ago. He had beaten them into submission, and even then, even with their leader riddled with bullets, he had felt the thrumming madness eating at him. So he screamed. He screamed, and kept screaming, tears flowing from his eyes as he threw his fists against the concrete until he was sure his hands were shattered. Even then, the internal pain eclipsed everything else.

 

When he finally made the trek back home, he stood outside the door of their apartment for what felt like hours before he stepped inside. Empty, he could feel it in the walls, he could feel the aching hollow in every single room without even venturing in further. He swallowed a thick lump in his throat, which felt raw and bloody from his screaming, and pushed himself further inside to move straight to the bathroom. He’d bind up his hands, and then he’d go to bed. When tomorrow came, he’d… he’d just deal with one day at a time.

 

He knew Dick had blown up his phone. Tim had even left messages of hope, and Babs sent him links to the latest memory retrieving technology. Even Damian had sent him a text, a single line. ‘ _ I’m sorry. _ ’ He read through a few of the messages before tossing the phone on the bathroom counter.

 

When he made it to his bed and collapsed on Roy’s side, burying himself in the scent of his skin and shampoo in the sheets, he didn’t even look up on the bedside table to see the small, golden ring left there. If he had, despite the crippling exhaustion, he would have not slept a single wink. He’d deal with one day at a time.

 

-

 

Roy hated how everyone kept looking at him like he had lost something. It was all eerily reminiscent to when he lost his little girl, but the difference was he didn’t  _ remember _ what he lost this time. It was beginning to piss him off. The guy couldn’t have been real! There must have been some kind of catch, Roy knew that there was no ‘perfect man’ out there for him, no matter what Dick said. But his thumb kept returning to his left hand’s ring finger, brushing over the skin there as if expecting to find a ring there, but he had left that in the strange apartment before he went to Dick’s.

 

He was still vaguely convinced this was some kind of magic, maybe an odd trance everyone was stuck in. He knew he wasn’t as susceptible to being brainwashed or having his mind tampered with- he was pretty sure there was an instance back in his Teen Titans era where a villain had the team in some kind of mental block, and he was able to break free of it before them, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember the exact situation. Not all that surprising though; a lot of his memories from those days were muddled from the drug use.

 

He left Dick’s after a day and returned to his Gotham safe house, one of his older ones. He wanted to stay in the area, and he was pretty sure this was the only one that wouldn’t have been tampered with some false memories of some handsome witch trying to wed him. He was right- no leather jackets hung neatly in the closet, no vague smell of smoke and gun polish, and his coffee table had at least three water rings in the polished wood- no damned coasters. Weird… why did he feel so uncomfortably lonely here? Must be the effects of the failed brainwashing.

 

He cleaned the place up a bit from the dust that had settled in, before he began his physical therapy for the evening to try to speed along the process of healing his shoulder. Not being able to use a bow was going to seriously put a further damper on his mood; he needed that form of physical exertion to keep his mind clear.

 

As the days went on, he found himself occasionally talking to himself. Not himself, but moreso talking to someone who wasn’t there. It was some kind of reflex he was sure the magic had placed in his motor memory, but it still made his skin feel a bit too tight. His racing mind made sleep damn near impossible, and he’d stay up tinkering on his security system, or on his bow. He kept thinking of ways to improve guns and body armor that weren’t his, and it was starting to get frustrating. Starting to? Okay, it was driving him up the wall. Maybe he should just spend some time with that strange witch boy, see what it was he wanted from him anyways. See what Jason could possibly gain from marrying  _ him _ .

 

Every time he thought that was a good idea, he’d find himself hovering his thumb over the call button on his phone before he’d sigh and put it away. He couldn’t. There was something about that guy, something he never wanted to see again. It wasn’t  _ him _ per say, but the way he had looked at him at the end. With such agony bristling in those teal eyes, right before they were lost in a sea of toxic green. That, coupled with the month they had spent together when Roy had amnesia, it made him feel sick. He knew it was because he was essentially a blank book, walking around with literally  _ nothing _ in his head that made him who he was, but he had really loved spending that time with the stranger. But no. He couldn’t go down that road. He couldn’t stomach the idea of letting himself love someone again, and then being torn apart by them as they leave.

 

The day after Roy was finally able to take his sling and cast off, he spent hours with his bow. It hurt like a demon, but it was exactly what he needed to distract himself from his waking daydreams of the witch boy and his beautiful eyes. He had chased him even in his few hours of sleep, making him almost wish he was waking up beside him; also making him  _ terrified _ of the grip that creature had over him.

 

The day after he got the dreaded sling off, there was an attack on the city. Roy would never imply that he was happy that lives were in danger, but… he was a little bit itchy to get out there and use his bow on some living targets. Do some good, maybe exhaust himself so he could get some real sleep at night, devoid of Jason Todd and his sinful smile.

 

It was Apokolips. Of all things, Bats had to piss off  _ Darkseid _ again. Of course. Roy let slip a curse as he pulled on his gear, throwing his mask on last before he was out the door and heading into the thick of the fighting. The epicenter of the attack was the heart of the city, but Roy was sure Darkseid himself was trying to lure Bruce out. Wasn’t Roy’s problem- his goal in this was to put arrows in these aliens to save as many innocent lives as possible.

 

“Arsenal!” He heard a call from above, and looked up in time to see the ending flip as Dick landed in front of him, all done up in his Nightwing getup. “Sure you aren’t too rusty for this one? Wanna sit it out?” Of course, that was what he wanted to ask first. Even Dick, his supposed best friend, had the habit of underestimating him. He knew that the man was going to be watching each of his arrows for this battle, seeing if they hit home or missed, even though he had yet to see Roy actually miss a shot before.

 

“Don’t.” Roy replied, pushing through clenched teeth to make it clear that he had no intention of sitting this one out.

 

There was a brief moment of silence, with Dick undoubtedly sizing Roy up from behind his mask. “Here.” He handed him an earpiece, tapping at his own ear with his free hand. “You know, so you can hear my charming quips in the heat of battle.”

 

“Ah, just what I wanted.” Roy rolled his eyes, hesitating before he grudgingly grabbed the piece and began to put it on. “So,  _ he _ doesn’t have one of these, does he?” The archer stalled in putting the communicator in as he asked his question.

 

Dick knew exactly who he was talking about, and Roy could  _ feel _ the sadness in his old friend without even having to see it behind his whited lenses. “His helmet does, but I haven’t seen him wear it in a while. It was cracked in the last battle we were in, when he-” He stopped himself, licking his lips before he turned his head towards the fighting. “C’mon Arse, we got some baddies to fight!” He grinned that Nightwing grin of his, the one that draped over all of his other emotions to drown them in darkness.

 

“Call me that one more time, I’ll put an arrow in  _ your  _ arse.” The older man grumbled, before he was running after Nightwing into the thick of the battle.

 

There were a lot, and that was an understatement. It seemed all of Gotham’s heroes had to step up to the pitch to lend a helping hand, and throughout the night, Arsenal found himself working aside Batwoman for the first time, Robin for the second (he could remember), and even Poison Ivy. When he asked her why she was lending her leaves for the fight, she gave him a pointed look and ran an alien through the eye with a thorned vine. “I haven’t heard Apokolips to be very  _ green,  _ have you, arrow boy? If Darkseid has intentions of conquering this world, I will ensure myself to be a thorn in his side for all the plants he has plans to burn for his  _ aesthetic.” _

 

That got a laugh out of the archer, who watched her back for a little while longer before they were separated by a fresh wave of baddies. Now he was stranded on a rooftop, surrounded by a few idiots with energy lances, and running low on arrows. Alone. Or so he thought, until a bullet lodged between the eyes of one of the aliens, and another received a neck-breaking kick. Him. They fought together silently for the most part, and god Roy hated how  _ good  _ it felt. Like this was how it was  _ supposed _ to be. But he knew better- or at least he should! There was no ‘supposed to be’ for him, there was no other half waiting to meet him at the end of the aisle. He wasn’t some kid with his heart on his sleeve; not anymore.

 

“Still afraid of me?” When he finally spoke, his voice was rough and deep- harsher than Roy remembered, like he had been smoking a pack a day or maybe took up being lead singer in a heavy metal band.

 

Roy went over the possible options in his head with the speed he was known for. The problem here was he had no background data on this guy, aside from what he had been told, which could very well be lies. And of course, the month they spent together. But that was irrelevant. “Should I be?” He settled with, landing an arrow in a goon charging up his energy lancer, which he had seen first hand was capable of cutting through steel like melting butter.

 

Jason’s gaze didn’t even follow the track of the arrow. It was like he, of all people, just knew that Roy had hit the mark perfectly. Roy watched the way the man’s tongue dragged over his bottom lip, and took note of the missing helmet- Dick was right, he wasn’t wearing it. “You? Never had a reason to be.” He finally spoke up, before he was running forward towards Roy. The archer stepped out of the way, his breath catching in his throat in a brief hitch of fear before he realized what Jason was doing before he had even confirmed it with his eyes. There was a threat behind him, wasn’t there? Why was he  _ trusting _ him though?! He was- he could be just an  _ illusion! _

 

Jason landed a heavy punch to the jaw of one of the aliens that had been approaching behind the archer, before he threw a kick with a backflip that wrenched the beast’s head back with a crack confirming his neck was snapped. He then landed and looked back over at Roy through the lenses of his mask, and a moment of silence passed between them. “I just.” Shit,  _ shit, _ he couldn’t be doing this to himself! Not again. “I don’t know you.”

 

“Yeah.” Jason’s voice was smaller now, seeing as they had a moment of reprieve from attacking monsters. “I know. And that makes me want to die a little bit. My Roy… is gone.” He spoke through clenched teeth. He bared them like they were his wall, his defences, from the heartbreaking world he found himself in.

 

Roy found himself wanting to believe, that maybe, just maybe, he was human. And if he was... “Do you want to get to know me?” Why was he opening this door? Goddammit,  _ why?! _ Maybe because he could  _ feel _ the agony in those teal eyes, hidden away behind white lenses; he could feel the strength in his bones, in his teeth, and how even they were failing him. Leaving him weak in the middle of a battle simply because Roy was missing something between them. “I don’t know you. But… I want to. And I’m not your Roy, I’m not the man you remember, but if you just… let him go, maybe I could be.”

 

Jason’s muscles seemed to grow tight under his armor, and his jaw clenched and moved as he visibly swallowed. Roy wanted to reach forward, wanted to press his fingers against his neck, feel his pulse racing, just touch him. But he didn’t know  _ why. _ “I mean-” His voice was heavier, the words almost tangible in the air as they lingered. “I’ll try. I want to.”

 

_ The moment these words- _

 

“LOOK OUT!” Roy was distracted by a cold, heavy mist in his mind, leaking white from hollow eyes. He blinked and turned his head to see the alien charging at him, he could see the energy lance held back to be thrown, but from this position, there was no safe dodge. One end put him closer to the beast, the other off the fucking roof. There was a dodge for this, he could’ve sworn he… he learned… no, he couldn’t  _ remember _ it, why couldn’t he just  _ remember?! _

 

He had no other option than to nock an arrow seconds too late, letting it fly a millisecond after the lance left the alien’s hand in a hard throw. His eyes squeezed shut then; he knew the arrow had found home between the beast’s eyes, but he didn’t want to see the lance end him as the burn cut across his stomach. Cut his stomach. Not  _ through _ his stomach. He opened his eyes and his jaw dropped when he saw the lance had been stopped from going through him because it had gone through  _ Jason  _ instead.

 

“Sh-shit.” His voice, it was wobbly, it was weak; just like his knees, which gave out as he pitched forward, the lance sliding the rest of the way out as Roy took a staggering step backward. Jason just… oh god, that was  _ blood _ , he was… he was human, he was definitely _ human.  _ “N-no, I… shit, I-I can’t…” The younger man was babbling as Roy snapped back into his own head and ran forward to grab at Jason’s shoulders. The gunman’s hands were shaking, teeth clenched together as blood stained the cracks between them. He was pressing his gloved hands over his stomach, his skin a sickly pallor as he tried to stand up again.

 

“No, no no stay here, I’ll-” Roy kept him down, before looking around. The battle was still raging around them, he’d do  _ what?! _ He’d assess the situation, he’d determine the damage, and he’d  _ fix it. _ He was the fixer, that’s what he  _ did _ . “I’ll fix it Jason, just stay here okay?” He said, trying to keep his voice as calm as he could. “Dick, there’s a situation. I need medical backup, I need it  _ now.” _ He spoke into the earpiece, his voice a bit frantic.

 

Jason lifted his blood soaked gloves to grab at the corner of his mask and peel it off, letting it fall forgotten to the ground. His teal eyes were wet, they were so wet, as they looked up at Roy. “I-I promised him, I promised  _ you _ I’d… l-live for you.” He pushed out of bloody teeth, tears pooling before they fell down his cheeks with little resistance.

 

“You will.” Roy said, pulling out some bandages from his quiver as he pressed his hand against the wound that went straight  _ through _ him. It was angled in a way that missed his spine, but his organs- and all the blood, Roy didn’t know what to do, where to  _ start _ . “You’ll live Jason, I won’t, I can’t let you die.”

 

“J-Jaybird.” His words were wet, like there was too much liquid in his throat to speak around. Even with Roy wrapping the bandages as tightly as he could to keep the blood inside his body, that didn’t mean it was staying in the right place. “You… you call me  _ Jaybird…” _ His fingers dug weakly into Roy’s shoulders, and the archer didn’t know  _ why _ but he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

 

“Jay… Jaybird.” He tried to say, and it felt right. But it also felt like too little too late. “I, I won’t let you die. I won’t.”

 

Jason squeezed his eyes shut- out of pain or desperation, Roy couldn’t tell. “Y-you… didn’t remember. The dodge I taught you.” He said, his voice growing weaker as he pitched forward a bit until Roy steadied him to keep wrapping his wound. “‘C-cause you ain’t my Roy… you don’t love me…”

 

The younger man’s head rested on his shoulder as Roy knelt before him, tying off the blood-soaked bandages as tightly as he could. It wasn’t enough. He knew it wasn’t enough, but… “Jason, I’m so sorry…” It was all he could say to the man around the lump choking his throat. “Dick?! DICK, BRUCE, ANYONE! For god’s sake, he’s  _ dying! _ ” He tried to get help again, wanting to just save him. Before it was too late.

 

He felt a bloodied hand press to the side of his face, and noticed that the glove was gone. The gunman’s rough thumb brushed across his cheek, where his freckles were at their thickest, and he could feel Jason’s body shake in a sob. “I can’t let him go. I can’t ever let him go.”

 

“I know.” Roy spoke through the tears filling his eyes, carefully taking the man’s wrist so he could pull back and gently lay Jason down. “Just hold on, okay? They’ll be on their way, they’ll help you, your family-”

 

_ “He’s _ my family. I… I wanna live for him. B-but I can’t live without him.” Jason managed out, his eyes looking up at the night sky as he fidgeted with the ring on his hand, tears running down the sides of his face. Roy looked down to see that there were two rings on the younger man’s hand, and he reached out to take it when the teal eyes watched him insistently.

 

He slid the top one off, examining it in the light of the city, and for the first time he noticed the etching along the inside of the band. It was in Navajo. “You are my home.” He clenched his fist around the golden band, that mist in his head growing stronger as Jason faded faster. No, no he wasn’t supposed to  _ die, _ he was-

 

“Y-you said…” The crease of his lips was red with blood, and his wet eyes looked up at the sky with resignation. “You said ‘memories make the man’. So d-do’ya think it means he’s dead?”

 

His voice was so weak that Roy had to lean forward to hear him, his free hand reaching forward to cup the man’s cheek. Shit he was cold, too cold, this couldn’t be  _ happening. _ “I-I, I don’t know, I… I’m sorry.”

 

Jason nodded weakly, eyes flickering down to Roy again, his weak teal gaze mapping out his face in the way he had countless times during their month together. The month that Roy could remember, at least. “I hope he’s waitin’ for me…”

 

“Jason, don’t… don’t talk like that.” Roy said, his tears spilling over now that Jason’s had stopped. “Just hold on, just… try a little longer, just…” His eyes were rolling back, fluttering closed. “Jason, no. No! Jason!” He sucked in a faint breath, pushed one out. He didn’t pull in another. “JASON!” The weak pulse against Roy’s pinky on the younger’s man neck flickered. And then it was gone.

 

_ The moment these words return to you, you will know it has been done. You are cursed, Roy Harper. _

 

Roy couldn’t breathe, a freezing blast wrapping around his limbs, encompassing his bones as the mist settled through his blood. When the cold passed, as quickly as it had come, he blinked a few times to try to focus his gaze. “I… I remember. Jaybird, I remember!” He wasn’t moving, he still wasn’t moving. No.

 

_ You will be abandoned by the one who you were finally sure would willingly linger. _

 

“No. No, no Jaybird. I-I remember. Jason, I’m not there, I’m right here, I’m- oh god.” He couldn’t breathe. This wasn’t happening. He wasn’t a witch boy, he wasn’t an illusion. He  _ was _ magic, but the kind of magic that comes with being something greater than you. Of finding what makes you whole, of finding your other half, your  _ better _ half. “Come back, come back, I didn’t- I remember now, I-I remember now you gotta come b-back…!” He pressed his hands over his fiancé’s chest, where his heart lay, and began pumping. He had to get his heart to start again, despite how little blood there was, he had to come  _ back. _ His Roy wasn’t waiting for him in death, he was  _ here. _

 

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE SOMEONE SAVE HIM!” He screamed into the comm, tears blurring his vision as he tried to watch his face, tried to study it for signs of life. A flutter of his eyes under his lids, a quirk of his lips,  _ anything. _ Roy couldn’t breathe, he was panicking, he was hyperventilating. He leaned forward to try to push oxygen into Jason’s deflated lungs, but there was no response.

 

He tried again, and again, until he was just kissing at the man’s unresponsive lips, tasting the blood and cold as his tears fell onto Jason’s pale skin. He grabbed the man’s face, the face he had grabbed countless times to steal kisses from, to coax a grumpy frown into a smile, to just appreciate the warm teal of his iris. And he squeezed his eyes shut and he  _ screamed  _ for Jason, who wasn’t waking. Who wasn’t stirring. He was just... still.

 

The one person who he was finally sure would  _ never _ leave him, was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I actually have written an epilogue to make things a little less awful and shitty and bleak. If anyone is desperate for a happy ending, let me know in the comments.


End file.
